Where the Heart Is
by GirlMood
Summary: The Nara find their home among the deer and, while Shikamaru too is comforted in the presence of his ancestors, he turns his eyes in another direction, out into the sun, out to where he knows there is a land of sand." TemarixShikamaru/Oneshot


The past is home and the Nara find their's among the deer and, while he too is comforted in the presence of his ancestors, he

Author's Note: This is the product of a particularly nasty writer's block. Written quickly and un-betaed, as usual, I wrote what came to mind and this is the outcome. Enjoy and spread the love. Reviews are much appreciated. :D

Word Count: 750

Rating: G

Pairing: TemxShika

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:Where the Heart Is:

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Home is where the heart is.

The Nara find their's among the deer and, while Shikamaru too is comforted in the presence of his ancestors, he turns his eyes in another direction, out into the sun, out to where he knows there is a land of sand. There, the night skies are clear so that you may count the stars, but the darkness is deathly cold. The day steals your strength, the fierce winds and storms your flesh; the flying sand slicing your skin bloody and raw. Nature's mercy is death and she is fickle, sometimes taking the strong along with the weak. The desert's children fear the shifting sands, treading respectfully past the loose grounds, and revere the rain, rejoicing over the smallest sprinkles.

This is the village of Sand.

The Sand is the first to know of war. When their precious trade routes vanish, the people know that the traders have been killed by the opposing factions, and they mourn for a week. One week only because that is how long it takes to distribute emergency supplies to the populace and for the council heads to give their speeches of reassurance. But the ninja are never at peace. Restless and cautious, each individual a coil of tightly wound emotion held in check by their own self-control, they patrol the walls relentlessly, ceaselessly, as if expecting the war to appear on the horizon with the end of the world at its heels.

Shikamaru has seen this all. He knows the desert and people and the clear and sometimes hidden sky. And, of course, he knows the blue-eyed girl who calls this home. She is a tall girl, supple and lithe, brash and confident with a brat's grin. Her weapon is the iron fan, a gigantic monstrosity of a woman's fashion accessory that she can wield with one hand alone, and she never misses an opportunity to threaten, or, better yet, beat him upside the head with it. There is no question in regards to her abilities - she excels in most areas of combat and is an exceptional tactician - and any silly enough to put one to light is swiftly put into the dark.

The girl of Sand is a daughter, sister, woman, and shinobi all rolled into one. At times, it is hard to differentiate between the roles as she plays all in similar fashion, her nature being too rough to be all that much soft to fit the feminine parts of her life. But she is never absent in times of need, standing firmly by her family and smashing the enemies of her village. As a friend, she is just as loyal, just as devoted and protective, and, also, just as teasing, never going long without letting loose a stream of witty quips and smug observations.

But it does not take an observative eye to notice this. The power of observation is wasted on the obvious and, to be put to full use, is better saved for the little things and, of course, Shikamaru knows those small habits and oddities of her's. He knows of the silly half-smile that crossed her face when Gaara first operated an oven and that tendency of her's to wind stray stands of blonde round her fingers. The smell of freshly washed clothes and soap is her perfume of choice and she has said, more than once, that she'd rather buy a set of kunai than a bottle of the sweetest scent. He makes it a point to give her anything _**but**_ the kunai on her birthday, and she is always displeased. Still, after she has chased him out the house and shut the door in his face, she wanders inside her kitchen and sets her gift on the counter and stares in wonder. A teapot, a metal comb, and a shogi set are among the presents she's received over the years. Each one has its own special place in her room. The teapot sits on a small table, the comb on her dresser - never touched - beside the shogi set. When she comes home at night, she sits on her bed and looks at each in turn, and then she looks out the window.

Home is where the heart is, it's said, but when Temari stares out the window, out into where she knows of land of trees, her heart flies away, out the window and into the sky, off to join the one staring back among the leaves…

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